Let Me Fight For You
by neverbeenunloved
Summary: Not for nothing is he called the Just King. Now he has to uphold his brother's and his family's honor, no matter the cost to himself.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, I got this idea from a few of the fanfics I've been reading, and I've come up with my own. I've drawn inspirations from several different fanfics and I can't remember all the authors, so if you recognize something that's yours, or a bit similar to yours, please PM me so that I can add an extra chapter crediting you all. Although I think majority of my inspiration here is from WillowDryad's story, "Counted Among the Traitors." Thank you!

P.S. For those of you waiting for my update to "Lead Me Home", my other Peter/Edmund multi-chapter brotherfic, hang in there! I really want the next chapter to be the best possible for you guys, so I'm going to be spending a little extra time on it before I post it. I hope this one-shot can tide you over until then.

**UPHOLD**

In the most kingly way he possibly could, High King Peter the Magnificent yawned.

He was bored. Plain and simple. He was holding court in Cair Paravel along with his siblings, and the cases had dragged on all morning.

As he waited for the next case to be announced, he looked at his siblings, who all looked as bored as he did, especially Lucy. The Valiant Queen was fidgeting in her throne, playing with her hair, and looking in all different directions as if she was stargazing. She caught Peter's eye and he gave her a fond smile. "_It'll be over soon," _he mouthed. Sighing, his sister answered, "_I know, but it seems to take forever!_"

Leaving the Valiant Queen to her own devices, Peter glanced now at his other sister, Susan. Her throne was beside his, and it wasn't difficult to observe her. The Gentle Queen was staring dreamily into the distance, her hands folded on her lap. "_No doubt thinking about that prince again,_" Peter thought ruefully. Every so often Susan would snap out of her trance and take Lucy's hands into her own to stop the fidgeting, or to tell the younger Queen various admonitions. Peter could only hear a few, but he smirked at the older Queen's attempts to turn her carefree sister into a "proper young lady".

He sighed as he leaned back into his throne and looked at his brother Edmund. The Just King looked like the most interested in the hearings out of all the siblings. His gazed intently at the court assembled and once in a while gave a sigh.

"How you holding up, Ed?"

They were all past the age of twenty now, each coming into their own as Kings and Queens. Each had their own titles, but they had also reserved their nicknames for privacy and family only.

Edmund glanced at him and smirked. "Boring court day, eh?"

"It doesn't seem boring to you, brother mine."

Every so often, though, they would take to formalities if the situation needed gravity.

Edmund sighed. "If only you knew, my Liege. I still have much to learn on the intricate system of the Narnian law. If not for the title of the Just, I would have left the court proceedings to your capable hands, and to those of our dear Queens."

Peter smiled. Ed would always be Ed, sticking to his duty even though he was bored to death.

"You honor me with your loyalty, brother mine."

Edmund inclined his head in acknowledgement, just as Thales the Faun, Master of the Court, walked up to the four thrones.

"The next case awaits, your Majesties," he announced. "And this is the last of the day."

At this, all four monarchs perked up, and Thales continued at a lower tone, heard only by the four.

"So please," and here he winked at Lucy, while still keeping his voice serious. "With all due respect, your Majesties, quite a bit of interest will be needed."

They all straightened up at that gentle reproof, all attention once again back at the court. "Whose turn is it?" whispered Lucy.

Susan shrugged, and turned to Peter. He shook his head with a smile on his face, and immediately elbowed instead his younger brother, King Edmund the Just.

The younger looked at his brother. It was Peter's turn. But then again, he was the only one keeping count, so for the sake of his and his older brother's dignity (he did not want to start a squabble in court), he nodded to Thales to proceed.

The faun nodded in return and stood at the side of Edmund's throne, unrolling a scroll. Edmund straightened up a bit. Thales started to read, his voice resounding throughout the marble hall.

"The Narnian court receives the case of Miletus, Son of Adam. Appearing on this day, in the year of the Great Lion, in the court of our most noble rulers, High King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant, the honourable King Edmund the Just presiding."

The crowd parted to make way for a youth, who Edmund guessed was Miletus. He had black hair and black eyes, with a lean, muscular build. His hands were shackled in front, but he held his head up defiantly, not minding the stares coming from all around. He was accompanied by two guards.

As he made his way to the center of the court, Edmund kept his gaze fixated on him as Thales continued reading. Miletus, for that was his name, stared defiantly back at his judge, hatred in his eyes.

"Miletus, Son of Adam, you are hereby brought to this court on charges of murder. A fortnight ago, you made your way to the dungeons of this castle and killed one of the prisoners. He had committed crimes, yes, but you ended his life, ending his chances of atonement. What say you?"

Thales rolled the scroll shut and bowed to Edmund, indicating that the court was his. Straightening his posture and clearing his throat, Edmund began.

"Miletus, Son of Adam, did you commit this crime, in full clarity of mind, on your own prerogative, without the involvement of accomplices?"

To Edmund's surprise, the youth merely stood ramrod straight, looked him in the eye, and answered clearly. "Yes."

One of his guards tapped him roughly on the back. "You will address our King with proper respect, boy!"

His gaze never leaving Edmund, the youth smirked and mockingly added, "Yes, my King."

"Are you aware of the punishment for murder?"

"Yes, my King. A life for a life. The punishment is death."

Despite himself, Edmund was unnerved. No prisoner like this had ever come to his court. Most of them had committed crimes less serious but were already grovelling at his feet, begging for mercy. This youth was different. He seemed not to care that it was Edmund who held his life in his hands.

"Very well. The punishment will be handed out, Miletus, Son of Adam. You are hereby marked for execution. What say you?"

At this, Miletus spoke, as if he had wanted to speak all along but had held it in for this final confrontation.

"What say I, my King? I say let the High King judge me!"

He pointed his shackled hands at Peter, who for the whole trial had remained impassive, letting his brother do his job. Yet now his face was a picture of confusion.

"Let me tell you a story, my Kings and Queens. There was once a family that lived on the northern plains. They were farmers, and every day the father worked his fingers to the bone to provide for his young child. They did not have much, but they were happy. One day, the father was slain while harvesting, because another farmer wanted the crops that the father had. However, the murderer was captured and taken to this fair court. Your Majesty the High King was young, and you did not impose judgment!"

Here he was fairly shaking, and hot tears started rolling down his face. His voice started to crack, but his anger made him carry on. "You sentenced him to the dungeons, when he should have died for his crime! What, you may ask, had happened to the dead farmer's child? He grew up, training himself in warfare. A fortnight ago, he avenged his father!"

The court went into an uproar, and it took some time to settle down.

"Therefore, my King," he said to Edmund, "if you are truly just, then you should not be judging me. Look to your side and see who is the true criminal! He who tolerates sin! High King, pah!" and here he made to spit on the floor.

The guards had made the move to gag him, when Peter put up his hand. "Nay," he said, his voice trembling. "Let him speak."

"You call yourself a High King? You are weak! Pathetic! You are not fit to sit upon the throne of Cair Paravel!"

With every word, Peter's face drained of colour, and it seemed that all will to fight back had left him. Edmund was clenching and unclenching his fists, willing his temper to simmer down.

"You're wrong!" came a high-pitched voice from the last throne. "You're wrong," the Valiant Queen repeated, her voice growing ever higher. "Peter's good, and kind, and noble…and oh! You're the one who should be judged!"

"Lucy…" murmured Susan.

"No! I won't keep quiet! He's insulting Peter, how could you…"

And here she broke down into sobs. Peter stared helplessly at Susan, and the Gentle Queen decided to leave the rest if the hearing into Edmund's hands. She stood up, and got Lucy out of her throne, gently guiding towards the back chambers.

All throughout Lucy's outburst, Miletus was grinning.

Edmund exhaled.

"Miletus, Son of Adam, your sentence has been changed."

At this the court gasped.

"You will no longer be executed by normal means. You will duel me, to the death."

At this, Miletus turned a paler shade, but he was undeterred.

"Very well," he managed to say. "Since the High King cannot defend his own honor, I will fight with you, King Edmund."

Before Miletus was led out of the courtroom and after the High King had retired to his chambers in distress, King Edmund beckoned to him.

"Tread carefully, Miletus. You have insulted my brother's honor today, and know that that does not come without consequence. I will fight you to the death, and may Aslan have mercy on your soul."

Unruffled, Miletus asked, "Why does not your brother defend his own honor? Has he not the strength nor skill?"

Voice cold, eyes burning with fire, Edmund answered.

"You are not worthy ."

**A/N: **Okay okay…I know what you're thinking. "This was supposed to be a oneshot?" HAHA…well, it got away from me while writing…I think this will be around 3-4 chappies long :D

Leave a review anyway please!

Love,

Shana


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: As I know a pathetic excuse for not updating will get me nowhere, I will now shut up and let you read the chapter. Thank you.**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After the trial, it was time for dinner. The four royals had theirs in a private chamber, with no one else except themselves. State dinners and dinners with visiting dignitaries were held in another, grander chamber, but the family had agreed to have a more private venue.

"Will that be all, my Queen?"

"Yes, Linea, thank you," answered Susan, smiling and nodding graciously at the female beaver who had served their dinner. Linea bowed and stepped out of the chamber, closing the heavy wooden door behind her.

Glancing back at the closed doors of the chambers, Linea shuddered. Speaking softly to the centaurs guarding the doors, she warned, "Don't go in until they summon you. Not all's right with them at present."

Shaking her head, she shuffled away.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After Linea left, all was silent in the dining chamber. The only sound was the clacking of cutlery against plates, and the occasional swishing of drink. The four ate on a rectangular table, with the kings at the ends and the queens at the sides, so that Susan and Lucy sat opposite each other, and the same for Peter and Edmund.

After a few minutes, Susan couldn't take it anymore. Clearing her throat, she attempted to break the ice.

"So, Lucy…" Looking up and catching the eye of her older sister, Lucy easily caught the plan.

"Yes, Susan?"

"The weather was lovely today, don't you think?"

Rolling her eyes and inwardly sighing, Lucy replied, "Yes, my dear sister, _that _was very evident." Seeing as it was up to her to find a better topic, she quickly changed the flow of the conversation.

"Tumnus was just asking me about how we intend to celebrate the anniversary of our coronation."

"It's not meant to be celebrated."

Silenced, Lucy and Susan turned to face the head of the table. Peter had not really touched his food, and so far had only drunk his wine. At the sound of his brother's voice, Edmund put down his cutlery and looked at Peter.

Susan was at a loss of what to say. "Peter…"

He would not look at them. He only looked down at his plate of untouched food and swirled his wine.

"It's not meant to be celebrated."

"But Peter, it's our coronation…" Susan trailed off, unsure of where her king was going with this conversation.

"_Your _coronation." Peter's voice sounded thick and slurred, the product of an overflow of emotions and wine.

"It's yours too, Peter!" Lucy exclaimed.

"No." Here he finally raised his head to look at his siblings, who regarded him with fear.

"No. My coronation is not worth celebrating."

All were silent, waiting for him to continue. His eyes looked to each of his sisters in turn, who were beside themselves with confusion, and finally coming to rest on his brother-king, who returned his stare calmly, calculating the reason behind his brother's madness.

Then the High King spoke, his speech slurred and thick.

"_I _am not worth celebrating. _I _am not deserving of being King. _I _should not have been crowned!" With every sentence, his voice grew louder and more emotional, each syllable and word enunciated.

"_Aslan _crowned you, Peter…He does not make mistakes." Lucy said timidly.

When that received no reply from the High King, the Just intervened. Having kept quiet throughout the whole dinner, he now stood, pushing back his chair.

"Sisters, please…leave us."

Susan was more than happy to obey, confused as she was with her brother's behaviour. Taking Lucy by the hand, they left the chamber, each to retire for the night.

When the door closed behind the Queens, King Edmund still stood and gazed at this brother. His gaze intensified, his eyes cold with fire. His brother did not meet his gaze, only kept his eyes downcast.

"She's right, you know. Lucy was always right."

Silence.

"Aslan crowned us, Peter. We are kings, regardless of the mistakes we've made."

Here Peter raised his head to look at his brother.

Edmund added, "I should know."

Peter looked away again.

"Why…"

This time his voice was soft and trembling.

"Why did you say you'd fight him? Why did you defend me?"

Edmund was incredulous. "After all these years, Peter, you would doubt that? Why now, why after all the times I had your back in battle, after all the times I jumped in front of a sword? You know I'd _die _for you, Peter!"

Here Peter stood, the same former anger that he showed in front of his sisters radiating through.

"You shouldn't have to."

And here he slid his chair back and walked out, slamming the heavy doors and leaving the Just to stare at his retreat.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N: Uhm…review?**

**Oh and I forgot to mention…the names Thales and Miletus are not mine, they are the names of two famous Greeks in the ancient times. **

**Up next: MORE brotherly fluff+angst = FLANGST! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Alrighty, two updates in a day! Woo-hoo!**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

King Edmund the Just was a very light sleeper. That was one thing his attendants could attest to. They would always be apologizing for waking their King, to which Edmund would reply with a greeting and a gracious nod of his head. A door opening, however noiseless the intruder tried to be, would always wake him.

He was also a very good actor when needed. Master Aelith, the Owl who was their dramatics and theatre teacher, would always say privately that out of the four royals, the Just was his favourite pupil. He could slip in and out of various personas, which made him a valuable asset in infiltration missions and covert operations for the good of Narnia. Of course, majority of the time found King Edmund the Just utilizing his skills playing dead on the field of battle so as not to be discovered by the enemy, ogre or giant or any other creature.

That was why when the door to his room opened, Edmund continued his sleep, only opening his eyes slightly to see who had disturbed him at the late hour.

He did not drop his façade of slumber, but instead turned over so as to get a better look at his brother, for that was who entered. Sitting at the foot of his bed, the High King sighed. Holding his head in his hands, Peter looked like the perfect picture of dejection and misery, so much that Edmund wanted to drop his act and hold his brother tight.

He was about to do so when Peter stood and, after fixing his brother's sheets, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and walked to Edmund's closet. As Edmund watched, his brother took out his sword and, removing his own, exchanged them. After buckling Edmund's sword to his own sword belt, Peter left.

As soon as his chamber doors closed, Edmund got out of bed and opened his closet. Sure enough, instead of his own sword, Mierdrin, Peter's Rhindon was hanging there, the golden lion head gleaming in the moonlight and cool to the touch.

Edmund drew Rhindon out of its sheath, watching the blade glint in the sunlight. His brother's action puzzled him, but then again everything puzzled him at eleven in the evening. Shaking his head and replacing Rhindon in his closet, he yawned and went back to bed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_That same night…_

In contrast to most of the castle's inhabitants, Miletus was not asleep. His cell was comfortable enough, with a mattress provided. In his opinion, Narnia treated her prisoners far too kindly.

There were no guards outside his cell, only a centaur sentry who walked past every few minutes. Five minutes and 30 seconds to be exact. He was sure. He had counted.

Making sure no one would hear him and the sentry was still patrolling the other parts of the dungeon, Miletus whispered.

"Chraina? Vrayine?"

_Yesss, brotherrr?_

"The stage is set. Soon our brother will join us, and we will restore our Mother."

_Goooood. Make ready our thronesss, brotherrrr. We will help you fiiiigghhttt…._

"They will be ready, my dear sisters. Soon we will rule."

The clip clop of the sentry's hooves heralded his arrival, and when the centaur reached the cell where he thought he heard voices, Miletus was asleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Clang, clang!_

Groggily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, King Edmund woke to the sound of swords. Judging from the night sky, it was about an hour from when his brother had entered his room.

Sighing, Edmund got out of bed and dressed, buckling Rhindon around his waist. Exiting his room and nodding his greeting to the guards, he quickly made his way to the training grounds. There was only one person who would be awake and training at this time.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Clang, clang!_

_Whoosh!_

Ever since coming to Narnia, Peter had always found comfort in sword-fighting. He found peace in the complex maneuvers, delighted in the whoosh of his sword as he brought it down. He always trained when he was frustrated and needed to clear his head, and that was why he was here now.

"I think you're getting slow."

Startled at first, Peter looked up. His brother was standing behind him, leaning on one of the massive stone posts that surrounded the training grounds.

"And you missed a few steps. You'll be off-balance before you know it."

Ignoring his brother's words of wisdom, Peter simply moved faster, dancing around the dummy's sword.

Exhaling, he simply continued his fake duel, Mierdrin in his hand. "It should be me, you know."

For once, Edmund was silent.

Turning around to face his brother, Peter repeated himself bitterly. "It should be me."

_Not you._

He was greeted by his brother in an offensive stance, holding Rhindon in his hand.

"Dummies don't make very good opponents, Peter."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

At first, Edmund was startled at the ferocity with which Peter attacked. He knew that his brother would have to release his pent-up emotions, but he didn't think it would be that severe.

Adjusting accordingly, Edmund gave all his strength to the counter. Their swords clashed, and after some time it became an impasse. Each brother was strong, and for a moment the force on each side was equal. However, Peter was still older and taller than Edmund, and Edmund soon found himself being pushed back, his feet sliding on the dusty ground.

Peter was grinding his teeth, still repeating his mantra to himself and to Edmund. "It should be me."

Edmund said nothing, still letting his brother release his emotions. Knowing he wouldn't be able to win the impasse because of his lesser strength, he took a step back and struck low at his brother's unprotected legs. Peter was unprepared and not as nimble, having dug his feet into the ground to win the impasse, and he tripped. Flat on his back and with his brother's sword at his throat, Peter closed his eyes.

A tear trickled out. Another. And another.

Edmund stepped back and sheathed Rhindon. Peter had sat up and curled himself into a ball, head buried in his arms and sobbing quietly. Edmund was startled at first, to see his High King so vulnerable. He was struck by how, at that moment, his brother looked nothing at all like the man who ruled a country, but began to look more and more like the confused thirteen year-old boy who had first come into Narnia all those years ago.

Kneeling, he took his brother into his arms. They sat like that for a while, each taking comfort in the other's presence.

Edmund waited. His brother would explain himself sooner or later.

"Why, Ed? Why did you do that?" Peter whispered, his head lying on Edmund's shoulder.

Edmund sighed. "Peter, I told you. All those years, all those battles, all the enemies we've faced…I've never hesitated to jump in front of a sword for you. To the best of my ability, I've been your shield. And I will gladly continue doing so."

"But that still doesn't answer why." Peter moved out of Edmund's arms and turned to face him. "Why? Why do you do that? Why do you willingly put your life on the line…for someone like me?"

Edmund replied, his tone serious, switching to a more formal speech, "Peter, you are my brother…and my king. Nothing less. My love I give to you…and my utmost loyalty I pledge to you. As long as I live."

"Oh brother…oh that I were worthy of such love and loyalty!" Peter exclaimed, so overwhelmed was he by his brother's declaration.

"You, you who are the High King and the Magnificent! You deserve more than I can offer, my king," answered Edmund.

"Have those who are truly Magnificent ever failed? Have those betrayed their people? Nay, brother," Peter sobbed. "In truth, you are more Magnificent than I."

"Have you forgotten, brother, of my fall at _her _hands? Of _my _betrayal? Traitor that I am, yet was called to champion justice by the Great Lion. None can fathom His ways, brother!"

Peter continued, "But Miletus…"

Edmund could not bear it any longer. "Twas not you, dear brother, who slayed the prisoner! His blood is on Miletus' hands, not yours. Your judgment many years ago was strong and sound, but twas his twisted mind that drove him to that, to kill. It was no fault of yours, brother, and I shall not see you destroy yourself because of it!"

Peter looked at his brother with newfound admiration. Truly, his brother was wise. Without another word, he grasped his brother in a tight embrace.

"Oof! Peter!"

"Thank Aslan for you, Ed…"

"Alright Peter, I have to breathe now." Laughing, Peter let go.

But Edmund still had questions.

"Peter?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you give me Rhindon?"

Looking at his brother, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I want you to fight with it."

Edmund smiled sadly, knowing what his brother was trying to do. "Pete, you know I can't fight with your sword. It's not balanced for my body and fighting style, it's too heavy…"

"Take my shield then," interrupted Peter.

Again Edmund countered. "You know I don't fight as well as you with a shield, Peter. I was planning on taking Mierdrin and Boreade."

Peter fell silent, stood and started pacing. "Then what have I left to give you as token, brother king and champion?"

Edmund knelt in front of his brother and laid Rhindon at his feet. "Give me your blessing, my liege. Give me the assurance that I fight with your approval and with your support. Give me the assurance that I fight with the love of a brother and the heart of a king. Above all, give me permission to fight on your behalf, brother, that your honor may be preserved."

Peter sighed. 'This I am loath to give, brother. But for the good of our honor, so be it."

Laying his hands on his brother's bowed head, High King Peter gave his blessing.

"King Edmund the Just, you are now a champion of the High King and of Cair Paravel. May you fight with Aslan's protection, and may your faith remain strong. May your courage not fail you and your heart not falter. May you fight not to kill, but to protect. I give you my blessing as High King. May Aslan protect you and guard you."

His benediction finished, Peter dropped and knelt so that he was face to face with his brother. "Ed, look at me."

"You may be the Just King, but you are first and foremost my brother."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N: Hmmm…I'm not entirely happy with this, but ohwell D: (no beta, btw)**

**Okay, a few notes:**

**1. I read in a story somewhere (forgot the author) a line somewhere along the lines of "the air doesn't make a good opponent, Peter" – Ed. That is where I got some inspiration for this chapter, so if you know or you are that person, please PM me for me to credit you **

**2. The names of Edmund's swords (Mierdrin and Boreade) are my creation :D not canon…**

**Ok…that's it! Review please…**

**Up next: Duel!**


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